Savior
by Twinkie216
Summary: This is a drabble based off of the song Savior by Rise Against. Walter's not having the best of days. Hints of RorschachxOC.


**This is a drabble based off of the song Savior by Rise Against. I love the song, and I couldn't get Rorschach out of my head when listening to it. So, here we are now, with a Rorschach fanfiction. Enjoy...?**

* * *

Rorschach, sighed as he slid down and sat against the brick wall. It was the dead of night, and he was next to his apartment door. He'd wanted to go in, but at the same time, he didn't want to go to sleep, afraid of where his dreams might take him. How had it all gone so...wrong? How could he have done those things to her...and how could she, the woman he used to have known so well, have just left? Where had _she_ gone in the past few years?

...But that wasn't what he should be focusing on. That wasn't what was important right _now_. Not the past, but the future. Not her, but _him_.

Rorschach leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. "It kills me not to know this," he said quietly to himself, "but I've all but just forgotten what the color of her eyes were and her scars..." he sighed, shaking his head, "or how she got them..." He smiled, a real smile, as he remembered the girl he used to know.

The serious little girl who always got into trouble...

To the feisty teenager who had been set on teaching people a lesson...

To the young, independent woman who blossomed before him...

Now to the female adult who was getting married in less a year to a man Rorschach didn't know.

It made Rorschach sick.

"As the telling signs of age rain down a single tear is dropping..." Rorschach scoffed, and ignored the tear that slid from his eye. "I'm not crying. Must be something in eyes," he grumbled. He sighed and looked around for his liquor. He took the bottle in his hands and smiled. "...for the valleys of an aging face that this world has forgotten..." Rorschach pulled up his mask past his lips and took a drink of the bitter liquid. "There is no reconciliation that will put me in my place and there is no time like the present, to drink these draining seconds..." He took another drink.

Rorschach didn't move or say anything for a while, but suddenly snapped out of his sulking to rub his face. He must be tired - exhausted to be letting himself fall back on such depressing topics. He should be up and moving around instead of thinking about what could have been. To lighten his mood, he pondered shaving for a moment, but he decided against it. Suddenly, a thought struck him.

Maybe that's why she left him - his bad hygiene. He dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it had been brought up. She had never been shallow, and she'd never cared.

Or had she?

Rorschach groaned and couldn't help but hate himself. It was his entire fault. She was always been...well, as perfect as one could get. She was loyal, attractive, and incredibly intelligent. They had always been there for each other - thick and thin, no matter what. When she was in danger, he'd get her out of it. When his life got rough, she was boat that kept him from going under. When either of them needed to talk, each were there.

He didn't understand...

Frustrated, Rorschach took another drink of his liquor. "And the day pressed on like crushing weights. For no man does it ever wait..." He cracked a bitter smile and slowly peeled off his mask. "Like memories of dying days that deafen us like hurricanes. Bathed in flames we held the brand, uncurled the fingers in your hand, pressed into the flesh like sand...now do you understand?" Walter groaned. "No. I do not understand..." He took another drink. "I may never understand."

Walter recalled on the memories he had of helping her through the years. He remembered that one faithful night when they'd first met, and how she'd dropped her wallet...how he'd followed her and then kept her from experiencing one of the worst known tortures a woman could go through. They had both been so young then.

Then there was later when she was with Blake... Blake left her behind but she fought so hard to keep up with him - to stick by his side like he'd told her to even with all of those men shooting. The red head frowned, hatred running through him. He'd once admired the Comedian, but after that stunt it was clear that he could never hold any degree of respect for that man.

Then there were all of those other, smaller times where she'd fall when trying to get away from danger. She was always so clumsy - the clumsiest out of all of the Watchmen, at least. Walter remembered the time when she'd sprained her ankle in Daniel's basement. He closed his eyes, remembering why he'd always been so nervous to leave her by herself. She'd always manage to get herself a new scar. A new scar every mission, no matter how small or how big.

Walter shook his head. He'd never admit it. Not to himself, and not to her, that he cared about her more than he should. He'd never admit that thinking about her stirred unwanted feelings in his gut, that he couldn't help but feel attracted to her, and that he often wanted to go farther than just a hug. He hated himself for it, but he wasn't stupid. He knew that it was natural for a man to feel attracted to a woman; he just wished it wasn't to her.

Every once in a while - once in a blue moon - did he wish he'd never met her.

He didn't like feeling the way he did around her.

He didn't like that she saw him as just a friend.

He didn't like her fiancé being at such an intimate status.

He didn't like seeing his best friend carrying on in life with _stranger_.

And worst of all, he didn't like knowing that he couldn't do a thing about it.

Sure he could murder him, or threaten him, or do something terrible to him...but the feeling he would get from knowing he betrayed her, and stopped her from her happiness, killed him on the inside.

Walter felt empty. He took another drink, but it was suddenly too bitter for his taste, and he spat it out.

He slipped his mask back on and stood back up. As he made his way to the door he recited the words that bounced around in his head, "One thousand miles away... There's nothing left to say, but so much left that I don't know. We never had a choice..." Rorschach stopped at the door and faintly he could hear the business behind it. The blaring car horns off in the distance, the yells and screams of victims he could care less about, and the banging on the walls which he couldn't place a source too. "This world is too much noise, it takes me under."

Rorschach opened the door and stepped out into the cold winter night. He enjoyed the chill of the street, and walked alone down the dark sidewalk.

"It takes me under once again."


End file.
